


The Prodigal Son

by bastiansbabe



Category: Football RPF, Real Person Fiction, Sports RPF
Genre: Angst, Flashbacks, Implied Relationships, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, sernando - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 11:57:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3067001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bastiansbabe/pseuds/bastiansbabe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fernando comes home to Madrid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Prodigal Son

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing Sernando. I hope you like it! A sequel depends on the feedback I get. :)

He stopped his car a few kilometers away from the familiar place he once called home. He got out and took a deep breath. The air in Madrid was so much different than the air in Milan. It was crisp and clear despite being cold. It made him feel alive and whole again. The prodigal son, _El Niño_ , had come home and he could not be happier about that. He took one last deep breath before getting back in his car and heading home. He was sure there would be reporters, fans, maybe both waiting for him. That wasn’t weighing on his mind. Wondering if the person he had spent the last six months thinking about would be waiting for him was, however.

**xx**

_Warm hands splayed against cool skin, wet, desperate kisses, whimpers and moans were all he could remember about that night in Brazil. The night where they consoled each other, rediscovered each other and said goodbye in a blink of an eye. He fucking hated goodbyes and had been forced to say too many in recent memory._

_“I lo…”_

_“Don’t.”_

_Hearing those words only to be alone again hurt too much._

**xx**

He pulled into the driveway, surprised by the fact that not even the paparazzi were waiting for him. A mixture of joy and sadness overwhelmed him as looked at his old place. His family said he was crazy for not selling it when he went to England, but he didn’t have the heart to. There were too many memories to simply let it go.

**xx**

_“Merry Christmas, amor.”_

_“Merry Christmas. Here’s to many more.”_

_But there were no more and he was to blame. Maybe jealousy got the better of him or maybe he was just afraid of commitment. Maybe that’s why he agreed to the move._

**xx**

As he walked through the house, taking in everything, he couldn’t help but feel how empty it truly was. Sure there was furniture and still a few pictures in frames, but that warmth, that inexplicable warmth, was gone.

A chill ran down his back as his eyes landed on a picture of the two of them. Things were much simpler back then and they were happy, oh so happy. 

He sighed as he stared at the picture for several minutes, his heart slowly breaking all over again.

“You know, you really shouldn’t leave your front gate wide open like that. Anybody could just walk right in.”

Fernando turned around slowly, smiling softly.

“Welcome home, Nando,” Sergio smiled.


End file.
